The Renegade and the Phoenix:an Outtake
by JCI
Summary: The Olympics are over and Sasha keeps his promise to Payson. In the early hours of the morning, they sneak away from the harsh spotlight of London. The Renegade and the Phoenix are together...finally...


**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who entered my MIOBI FanFic contest! One of my most faithful readers, LauraW89 won (by random draw) and this was her request, a smutty outtake from _The Renegade and the Phoenix_ universe. If you haven't read that fic, obviously things will make a lot more sense if you do, but it's not necessary to read that in order to understand this.

The exciting announcement that prompted the contest is that my original novel, GAME SET MATCH, has been sold to a publisher along with two unwritten sequels. I am BEYOND thrilled and I'm currently working on revisions for the first novel If you haven't done so yet, check out my author blog, where news and updates are posted regarding my original work, including several prequels and the prologue of the novel. It'll be hitting Kindle, Nook and the GoogleApp store in Spring 2013. No news yet when the print version will be available.

Check it all out here: jenniferiacopelli dot blogspot dot com

Thanks and enjoy!

- JC

* * *

"Where are you going?" Lauren's raspy voice echoed loudly in the semi-dark room. Light was creeping in through the slats of their blinds, the sun rising on the Athlete's Village, the last sunrise Payson would see there.

"Airport," Payson whispered. "Go back to sleep."

"With Sasha?" Lauren yanked off her sleep mask and sat up in bed, fully alert.

Payson turned towards her and studied her friend – the girl who'd transformed from friend to rival to sister over the last few years. She couldn't lie to her.

"Yes. We're eloping."

"You're what?"

Raising a brow, Payson waited until Lauren's sleep fogged mind recognized the joke.

"So not funny, Pay. Where are you guys going, really?"

"I have no idea. France maybe, then from there…who knows. We've got to get out of here. I…I love him."

Sasha should have been the first person to hear those words. It was the first time she'd ever said them out loud, but somehow admitting it to Lauren made her feelings all the more concrete.

"Well," Lauren scoffed, "he's been in love with you since he walked into the Rock, so it's really about time you two got your act together."

"What, no middle aged men jokes?"

A self-deprecating smile spread across her best friend's face. "I think I've made enough of those to last a life time." She slid out from under the covers. "I'm happy for you, Pay – the both of you."

Payson smiled, tears burgeoning at the corners of her eyes. She pulled Lo into a hug.

"Rio?" Lo said, finally pulling back.

She nodded. "Rio."

It was a ridiculous promise. Four years was a long time and trying to make an Olympic team at all was an insane goal – let alone a second one.

A knock on the door jarred them both from their thoughts of rooming together in Rio four years from that moment.

"You ready to go?" Sasha asked, when Payson opened the door.

"Yeah." She looked back over her shoulder. "Just saying goodbye to Lauren."

Sasha raised his eyebrows when Lauren slipped past Payson and embraced their coach.

"Take care of her, okay?" Lo whispered, but Payson heard her just fine.

"Promise," he said, looking Payson directly in the eye over Lauren's shoulder.

Lauren pulled away, wiping her eyes. "Now you guys get out of here before everyone wakes up and there's paparazzi waiting for you at the airport."

There was almost no one at Heathrow. The Games were drawing to a close and most of the athletes were long gone or were still asleep in their beds after the Closing Ceremonies ran into the early hours of the morning.

Payson's eyes drifted closed almost immediately upon taking her seat and that blissful darkness was interrupted when the flight attendant announced they were about to land.

The Olympics had been emotionally draining more than physically so. She'd never experienced anything like it. That intensity was the driving force behind her promise to Lauren. She needed to feel that again. The only thing that surpassed it was the bond she had with Sasha.

She managed to stay awake all the way to the beachfront hotel Sasha reserved.

Stepping into the room, her eyes landed on the bed and every ounce of sleepiness fled her body. Nerves – a shaky, tremble of inexplicable tension snapped through every fiber of her being. Exhaling through her mouth, she watched bellhop put their luggage in the closet and open the door to the balcony, showing off the fabulous view of the sunrise on the Mediterranean.

The bellhop was gone after Sasha slipped him a tip and Payson wandered towards the balcony.

"You okay?" Sasha asked from just behind her, obviously sensing her unease.

She nodded and swallowed, then her body relaxed instinctively as he moved closer, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. Her hand drifted to his thigh and she squeezed gently.

Turning in his arms, she lifted her lips to his, brushing against them gently, then letting her mouth travel slowly over his jaw line down to his neck.

A groan escaped his throat. "Payson," he said, his hands grasping her shoulders. "We don't have to do this now, love."

Leaning away, she blinked up at him. "But I thought…" she trailed off, her nerves returning - tenfold. Didn't he want her?

He kissed her, cutting off her words, a short peck. "I want you," he said, reading her mind as usual. "I've wanted you for so long I don't even remember not wanting you, but I don't simply want you, Payson. I love you."

A small smile crept onto her face, the edges of her mouth rising slowly. Pushing up onto her tip-toes, she whispered, "I love you too," against his lips.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the hotel room door. "There's something we should do."

"Something that doesn't involve being in here?" she asked, laughing quietly at the glimmer in his eye.

"Believe me, we'll be spending plenty of time in here," he said, his eyes burning into hers, silencing her laughter, making her breath catch. "There's something we have to do first."

They hopped into a taxi and Sasha muttered an address to the cabbie in French.

"You speak French?"

"My mother was French."

Payson frowned. "Your mother was English."

He shook his head and Payson was struck by how much she simply didn't know about him. "My mother lived in England and I grew up there. She was born in France."

Sliding across the seat towards him, she leaned into his side. "What else don't I know about you?" Her hand brushed against the front of his shirt, where beneath the material was tattooed a cross, a tribute to a woman whose faith had kept him going all these years – even when he didn't have any faith himself.

"We're here," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple and paying the driver.

"Where is here?" she asked.

He nodded towards the door. "You remember Lou, right?"

"Tattoo Lou?" she asked and at his nod she smiled. "Of course I do."

"Well, he has a brother."

"Does he?"

"He does."

She peered around him and looked at the storefront just ahead of them. "And does he run a tattoo parlor as well?"

"It just so happens…"

"Is this why you wanted to come to France first?"

Sasha shrugged and gestured towards the door. "After you."

The shop was almost an exact replica of Lou's back in Boulder. The man behind the counter was obviously Lou's brother, only about a hundred pounds lighter. He nodded towards Sasha and narrowed his eyes, much like Lou had at the sight of a much younger girl with him.

"Frank?" Sasha asked, approaching him.

A smirk pulled at the tattoo artist's lips. "I know you?" he asked, is accent totally free of French influence.

"No, we're friends of your brothers. He said to pop in on you if we were in town."

"Did he? You here just to chat or to get some ink?"

"Ink," Sasha said firmly. Payson blinked and then furrowed her brow in his direction. She hadn't said a thing about another tattoo.

Frank nodded. DNA was apparently all he shared with Lou. His face was stiff and stern, no twinkle in his eye at all.

"You're getting another tattoo?"

"No," he said, "_we_ are."

"Matching tattoos, Sasha, really?" She rolled her eyes.

Grasping her hand in his, he lifted her wrist to his lips. "Really. You'll like what I have in mind, I promise."

A few minutes later, they were both sitting in chairs, arms extended over a table, two tattoo pens buzzing as the Olympic rings were permanently drawn into their wrists.

About halfway through the second, as Payson watched the small needle poking at her skin in morbid fascination, her stomach started to twist. This was a lot more painful than her first one.

"Hey, look at me," Sasha said, reaching for her free hand with his. "I never did tell you about when I got my second tattoo, did I?"

Payson smiled at his attempt to distract her. "No, you didn't."

Sasha sighed and pretended to think long and hard about it. "It was just before Sydney – a few months before the teams were officially named…" he trailed off swallowing.

She squeezed his hand, knowing what was coming. There was an entire chapter dedicated to his mother's illness and death just before the 2000 Olympics.

"She kept it from me for as long as possible, but I knew something was wrong. Then one day Nicolai was stopped by – just to check in. He'd never done that before and the look on his face. I knew…I just knew."

Payson felt tears prick and tried to blink them away, but it was hopeless.

Sasha cleared his throat. "Anyway, she didn't suffer long. Just a few weeks after that she was gone. I thought Nicolai was going to kill me when I showed up just a few weeks before the Games with a new tattoo. Made training hell – even more so than usual."

"She would have been so proud of you."

"She would have loved you, as much as I do."

"This is all very touching, but you two are done," Frank said, looking up from Payson's wrist.

"Oui, fin," the other tattoo artist said from Sasha's side.

Not letting go of her hand, Sasha stood and moved around the table. He linked their other hands together, palm to palm.

"So now they'll press together…whenever we…" he trailed off. Payson swayed forward, leaning into him, feeling a flush spread across her cheeks as he repeated Lou's words from a few weeks ago, words they'd denied.

Frank cleared his throat sharply. "None of that or I'll have to sterilize the entire room."

They walked back to the hotel, Sasha's arm around her shoulders, her hand linked with his, keeping their bandaged wrists pressed together – ignoring the sting of pressure upon the sensitive skin below.

She barely remembered walking through the hotel lobby or taking the elevator up to the sixth floor.

A giggle forced its way out of her throat when Sasha struggled with the room key, unwilling to let go of her hand, but unable to swipe the card properly.

The nervousness she felt earlier disappeared when she pressed herself into his side and took the key from his hands.

Sasha's hesitancy was gone as soon as they were inside their hotel room. Whatever hesitation he felt while they were still coach and athlete was totally gone. Payson found herself pressed up against the door, pinned against it by his body. His hands were everywhere, bunching the fabric of her shirt, tugging fruitlessly against the waistband of her shorts.

"Payson," he breathed out as his mouth trailed its way from her lips down against the angle of her jaw and over her neck. He nipped at the skin there and then pressed his open mouth against it, sucking hard, sure to leave a mark – different than the tattoos they shared, more personal, one that would fade and have to be remade hundreds maybe thousands of times in their future.

"Yes," she moaned, sifting her fingers through his hair, holding him to that spot. "I want you so much. I've wanted this for so long."

His hands slid down her body, brushing against the sides of her breasts, over her waist and then around to her backside, lifting her off the ground. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around him, their lower bodies coming together hard. Sasha groaned against her neck and thrust against her, before spinning away from the door and slamming them against the wall, making the picture frame beside them tilt.

Payson felt the moment when his knee buckled and for a moment every reason why they shouldn't be together flew through her mind. He was older than her – a lot older than her; a chronic knee injury that happened when she was barely out of diapers was a harsh reminder of that.

Then his hand squeezed gently against her hip as he raised his mouth to hers again and it didn't matter. None of it mattered – they were here together and it was exactly where she belonged.

"The bed," she whispered, pulling away from his kiss for a split second and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

He laid her down on the large mattress and for a moment just stood there staring at her, transfixed and unmoving.

"Sasha," she whispered, raising her hand towards him, missing the hot weight of his body against hers. It was moments like this when she remembered how much bigger than her he really was. After spending her lifetime around girls who always seemed so much smaller than her and pursued by guys who topped her by a few inches, had Rigo had seemed so tall in comparison, but Sasha, Sasha was even taller and was lined with muscle that had gone from super lean during this gymnastics career to slightly bulkier as he got older. She loved it.

"I love you," he said, his voice husky and she locked her eyes on his.

"I love you too," she said, her heart swelling in her chest.

His smile turned wicked and he yanked his shirt over his head and she sat up, following suit, careful not to disturb the bandage on her wrist.

"You're beautiful," he said, his hand spanning against her stomach, the tips of his fingers meeting the edge of her bra, as he lay down beside her.

Payson smirked and before he could react, she hooked her leg over his hip and flipped him over, straddling him and pressing down against his cock, relishing the feeling of his length against her.

She rocked her hips and Sasha's eyes slammed shut as he threw his head back and groaned. He recovered quickly, his hands going to the button of her shorts, tugging at it mindlessly as she started up a slow rhythm, bracing herself with a hand against his stomach, feeling the muscles twitch with every breath.

Oddly, her mind flitted to Rigo. A part of her was pissed off that she hadn't waited for this moment with Sasha. She wished that he would be the first and last man she ever did this with, but at the same time, she was eternally grateful for that experience, but if she were a blushing virgin she wouldn't know that leaning over and sucking Sasha's earlobe into her mouth would only heighten the pleasure she was giving to the man she loved.

He tensed below her and then tightened his grip on her body and had her on her back before she realized his intensions.

"No games tonight," he muttered and tore off his pants as she shimmed out of her shorts. "I want you now."

"Yes," she agreed and arched beneath him as his fingertips slipped beneath the elastic of her panties and slid them down to her ankles. She kicked off the scrap of fabric and sat up, undoing the clasp of her bra.

"Your body is amazing. I hated myself for loving it," Sasha mumbled, lowering his mouth to her skin, his ever-present five o'clock shadow scraping against the tip, making her gasp aloud.

"I wanted you to love it. I loved when your – oh God – when you would slip and I'd catch you staring. I wanted you so much."

"You have me," he said, nudging her legs apart with his knee, letting her hips cradle his. He took himself in hand and found the right angle.

Payson inhaled and then hissed out a slow breath as she felt him move inside her. For a moment their bodies were out of sync, trying to find a rhythm together in a way they'd never asked of each other before, but then Sasha grasped her hand and laced their fingers together, the bandages covering their new tattoos rubbing together. A sharp pain shot through her arm, but then his thrusts matched the motion of her hips and the pleasure totally overpowered everything else.

"Sasha," she called out, as his grip tightened on her hand, then he shifted his hips, finding a new angle, going deeper – harder and faster – than before.

Something inside of her, something she'd pushed aside for years, tried to ignore and convince herself it would never happen, started to grow. Her skin felt stretched, like it wasn't big enough to surround her body anymore and a fine sheen of sweat escaped, making her body slide against his in the most delicious way.

"Almost…" Sasha bit out and Payson arched her back, trying to draw him in ever deeper. "Fuck…"

"More," she begged as he braced himself on the mattress above her head and pounded into her over and over again, creating the purest friction in just the right spot.

Payson's eyes flew open, feeling his upon her. Their eyes met and held, fighting to see each other as they came together for the first time. Then it was too much and she felt herself falling, despite wanting to draw this out as long as she could.

Distantly, she heard a woman scream and then realized it was her own voice as Sasha kept up his sweet assault on her body. Then it happened again, this time more intense, her whole body shaking with the pleasure of it.

"Too much," she breathed, but he kept at it. "Please," she said, not sure whether she wanted him to stop or continue.

"Just…" Sasha bit out, "just…one more…" and with a final thrust, he froze above her and a white hot laser beam of stimulation fired through her as he fell apart in her arms.

They lay there, still joined, their bodies intertwined, unwilling to separate. Payson ran her fingertips down the damp planes of his back, feeling the muscles twitch as she traced mindless patterns.

"That was..." he trailed off, his breath hot against her neck.

"Yes, it was…"

That was how it was supposed to be, two people coming together, losing track of where they each began and ended.

Finally, he rolled off her, but didn't let her go, dragging her body over his, letting her use his chest as a pillow. Payson let her fingertips drift to the Chinese characters at the jut of his hipbone and traced it lightly. His hand drifted to the small of her back, pressing against her tattoo.

She felt the exhaustion precipitated by the last two weeks finally overtake her and her eyes started to close. His breathing began to match hers – slow and even – and as they fell asleep together, a small smile crept over her mouth. A renegade, holding a phoenix in his arms, starting a new life together, it was almost poetic.


End file.
